Classic Poem

There lies a quiet port across the sea
Where the proud sail is furled,
Where the bright banner flares and flaunts no more
That once waved round the world.

There the brave ships that steered for other shores,
That fought the bitter blast
And dared the unknown straits, the frost-hung bays,
Find harbourage at last.

And those white barques that sought the isles of dream,
The lands of love's report,—
They too, though steering gladly otherwhere.
Have found the quiet port.

There the dark night comes down around them, there
The weary captains rest,
The homesick voyager bows down his head,
The sage forgets his quest.

But yet, ah even while we fall on sleep,
We are content to wait;
Comrades, the land of our desire is near,
This port is but its gate.